Go From Here
by WinterGirl19
Summary: In the aftermath of recent losses, Brass mulls over change and what's to come for the nightshift CSIs. Rated T for mild language and because I'm overly cautious.


Go From Here

_"All change is not growth, as all movement is not forward."_

Ellen Glasgow

* * *

Things had changed so much. Everyone knew that law enforcement was a dangerous profession, especially in a town like Las Vegas.

But this was ridiculous.

The morale of the place had been going to hell in a hand basket for sometime now. He thought back to when it all began.

It had started with Grissom.

Grissom had been the first to lose control. He had forgotten his purpose, the point of what they did everyday. He became overwhelmed by the death and despair, by the criminals and the liars. He couldn't take it anymore. Every cop and criminalist had those moments, sure. Everyone has had or will have that one case that pushes them over the edge and tests their dedication to their work.

That's why no one blamed him when he had to get out for awhile.

But the ripple effect of his decision to go on sabbatical was something no one could have foreseen. The devastating after effect was weakness. His need to get out showed his team that on some level, he was weak. He was no longer the fearless, unshakeable shift leader. He was no longer the man that believed politics had no place in science. He didn't seem to care about that anymore. He was just a human being, and that was more apparent than ever before.

Sara had been next. She was most affected by Grissom's absence, which served as the first of several catalysts for her eventual breakdown.

She needed a break. She didn't know when or if she'd be back. That's what she'd told him.

They all needed a break.

So, down confidence and a member of their team, the hits just kept on coming. The stress was getting to everyone, but some dealt better than others with the frustrations of the law enforcement business.

Warrick was not among those who handled it well.

As a compulsive gambler, letting things go was not one of his strong suits. That was how he got mixed up in Gedda's mess.

That was how he ended up dead.

The pressure, the stress, the frustration was slowly strangling their team from the very top.

_Who's going to be the next to fall?_ That was the question he saw in people's eyes as they passed him in the halls.

He wondered that himself.

Would Grissom lose it completely at the loss of his "favorite" CSI?

Would Catherine go off the deep end at the loss of her dear friend and secret crush?

What about Nick? The poor guy had been through more shit than most in his time as a CSI. Would this be the final straw? Would the death of his best friend drive him out of Las Vegas once and for all?

Then there was Greg. He hadn't exactly had the easiest start as a CSI. He was the newbie. He was just getting to know the challenges of working in the field, and now he was seeing those challenges tear his new team apart. The team he'd worked so hard to be a part of was crumbling right before his eyes.

Life had dealt them a losing hand, and it didn't seem like anyone knew how to move forward. The guilt weighed heavy on everyone's shoulders. Questions hung heavy in the air around them. _Why didn't someone stop her? Why didn't anyone see his downward spiral? Why couldn't they get through to them? _It wasn't anyone's fault, and deep down, they all knew that. But that didn't satisfy them. There was too much to think about, too many missed chances to fix things.

Maybe that was the real problem with what they did for a living. No matter what happened in their lives outside the job, crime didn't wait for them to pull themselves together. People didn't stop killing each other because you were having a rough day. There were no real breaks. This job followed them everywhere, and it sometimes hit way too close to home, but they couldn't get away from it. Not without quitting. Or dying.

"What do we got?" the familiar Texan drawl startled him out of his thoughts. The question posed was related to the dead man at his feet, but it seemed fitting for their situation as well. They had a lot of the team left. But how did they keep it that way?

"Brass?" the strawberry blonde appeared directly in his line of vision. He just stared at her. She looked tired. Dark bags under her eyes were still visible underneath her carefully applied makeup, and her eyes were slightly red-rimmed, as though she had just been crying.

"Hey man, you feelin' alright?" Nick was kneeling next to the body, but straightened up to look at him. Nick looked pale and slightly disheveled. He wore a dark five o' clock shadow, very uncharacteristic for the usually clean-cut man.

They were struggling to get up in the morning, he knew, because he was doing the same thing. It was hard to pull yourself out of the comfort of your bed when you knew someone you loved wasn't going to be there. When you wondered if today might be your last day, one way or another.

He blinked suddenly and fought to clear his head, realizing they were still staring at him.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "Yeah I'm good," he tried to cover himself, "Didn't get much sleep last night, couple next door is on the road to divorce. I hope." He lied smoothly in his classic, I-don't-care-that-much-about-anyone tone and they accepted it with a nod and a grin.

He wondered about the future of this team. How would they handle this tragedy? Could they move on from this?

But for now, there was work to do.

"Male DB, found here early this morning by the night manager…"

The undeniable truth was they would never be the same. No matter how hard they tried to ignore their feelings, no matter how many triple shifts they worked to avoid going home to their empty houses; there was no getting around the fact that things had changed, and there was no way to fix them. They just had to decide where they would go from here.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Review if you have something to say! I live for constructive criticism!


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